


A special christmas gift

by Madita1908



Series: Immortal family life [1]
Category: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel - Michael Scott
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, F/M, Family, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love, M/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28035369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madita1908/pseuds/Madita1908
Summary: It is 2008. Joan and Francis decided to celebrate Christmas with their new/old friends, But Joan has a special gift for her husband, which turned even her life upside down. But how will she break the news to Francis?!! AU:  !! Immortals can get pregnant.!!
Relationships: Aoife/Niten | Miyamoto Musashi, Francis Saint-Germain/Joan of Arc, Niccolò Machiavelli/Henry "Billy the Kid" McCarty (Nicholas Flamel), Nicholas Flamel/Perenelle Flamel (Nicholas Flamel)
Series: Immortal family life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053611
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!  
> Thanks for clicking on this fanfiction!  
> I just want to quickly drop a huge THANK YOU to the whole discord server for support. You guys are all amazing!  
> Also a huge thanks to @JK for the prompt and the help developing the basic concept.  
> I hope you enjoy reading and have a Merry Christmas!

The chance of getting pregnant was slim, but it was possible. As an immortal woman, you could still get pregnant, but it was different compared to the normal cycle of a woman. An immortal woman would have their period only once in 100 years. Joan and Saint-Germain had known that, but they both knew they didn’t want children - just yet.  
Both wanted to follow their careers - especially Saint-Germain. He wanted to become world-famous, and that the twins hadn’t known his music showed him that he wasn’t famous enough yet. Joan, on the other hand, worked from home as her husband’s assistant and illustrator and she wasn’t seeking fame as her husband did. Of course, they had talked about this topic a lot, especially at the start of their relationship and when they decided to marry. But again, they decided that they wanted to see the world together, going on adventures.  
But even if you are immortal, life could still hold surprises.

Sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, Joan moves a hand through her short hair. This couldn’t be happening right now.

The past year had been a rollercoaster for them. The renovation had been pure stress and had taken longer than they had suspected. After the house had been finished, they went on the second honeymoon, and even expanded that by travelling through the country they stayed in. They had enjoyed the extra time together, even if Francis kept up the habit of not sleeping at night. Luckily, Joan knew ways to lure her husband to bed.

Joan sighed and leaned forward. 2008 had started great. It started with another vacation, this time with friends. During this vacation, Francis had finished his new album and soon went on a Europe tour with his band. Joan was fine with that, and the couple agreed with meeting up again in London for Palamedes' birthday party.  
In the meantime, Joan had started to give art lessons at a local middle school. She had always loved working with kids and teenagers and the work gave her the social contacts she needed. Despite that, she even befriended a few of the other teachers and even started going out in the evening with them.

And yet, she hadn’t thought about that one possibility the test in her hand showed. She was pregnant – according to the test around 12 weeks. This couldn’t be true. But then again, she had been feeling unwell for quite a while, but she’d kept saying to herself, that this was just her coming period.  
Since her teenage years, Joan had experienced that her premenstrual symptoms included feeling dizzy and having rising nausea, so she hasn’t thought about pregnancy.

Getting up, Joan left the bathroom, just to lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. If she was honest, she felt terrible. A thousand thoughts were running through her mind. How could she tell that Francis? How would he react? How would their friends react? How could she even be pregnant? She has had her damn period! She’d have had the last period in 1908. Not having your period for 100 years had benefits and risks. A benefit was definitely, that they hadn’t had to spend a fortune on contraceptives. But now... now she regretted not having them around.

Joan cursed. She had told Francis that there would be at least 2 weeks this year where they couldn’t share intimacy. She’d even calculated them approximately around…. Fuck. She’d calculated them for around September. And they hadn’t appeared. And she hadn’t given a thought about.  
_“When the fuck did this happen?"_ She thought and went through her memories. Three months ago... Where had they been back in September? They had visited her home village for a weekend, but nothing happened there and before that, they had been in London for Palamedes birthday.  
LONDON! Joan shoots up into a seating position. Of course! This could be the only time where it could have happened, for Francis had left for a mini-tour again in October.  
The memory flooded her head and made her feel sick. It must have had happened, when Francis had come back from his tour.  
She had bought some new Dessous to surprise him. Naturally, one thing leads to the other.

Suddenly she heard the front door open and close and she hastily hid the pregnancy test in the secret bottom of her nightstand drawer before rushing into the bathroom and splashing cold water on her face.  
"Joan, I am back! I am sorry to tell you but the wine you liked the last time is sold out everywhere! I bought the white one instead! I hope you don’t mind!" Francis yelled from downstairs and soon she heard him coming upstairs when a new wave of nausea hit her.  
"I also-- Jeanne, is everything alright?" Germain rushed to her side, as he saw her bending over the washing table.  
"I am just feeling a little tummy sick", Joan managed to say after vomiting, "I think the milk wasn’t that fresh anymore."  
Francis drew small circles on her back. "Told you it smelled exposed. You haven’t wanted to hear it."  
"Idiot!" Joan hissed and bent over again.  
“I love you too", Germain replied grinning.  
“Is there anything I can do for you, my love?" He wanted to know.  
“Can you make me some tea, please? I just want to clean me and this mess up."  
“How about you lay down downstairs and I clean up?" Francis suggested while Joan took a sip of water and before she could even answer, he gently shoved her out of the bathroom.

Joan wanted to complain but knew it wouldn’t do much. Thinking about the positive test made her uncomfortable. She needed to talk to someone but who?  
In less than a fortnight they would be celebrating Christmas with their friends and family - who of them could she call?  
Scatty? No, she was possible already at the airport with Niten and Aoife, for they offered to come earlier to help with the preparations.  
Joan hadn’t the slightest idea of how to contact Perenelle when Francis was around. Every time she called the older woman, Francis would enter the chat too - which wasn’t a big deal. If Nicholas were around, he would join too but soon Francis and Nicholas would be talking, ignoring their wives completely.  
Also, the Flamels would appear with Marethyu and Sophie a couple of days before the fest. Maybe she could contact Perenelle later tonight when Francis would be working upstairs. Or maybe she could call one of her school colleagues?

Taking a step at a time, the French woman made her way downstairs, just to notice that her husband had placed the groceries on the kitchen counter for her to unpack. After all, the kitchen was her territory. Looking at the stuff her husband had bought, her stomach rejected and she turned for their second living room.  
_"Maybe I should make a doctor’s appointment to get something for nausea,"_ she thought and put it on her to-do list for when Francis wasn’t around.  
Feeling more exhausted than before, Joan sat down in her wing chair, resting her head against the soft fabric. She hadn’t even a chance to make her mind up against the idea of sleep her body suggested, for in almost a heartbeat, she was asleep.

* * *

Germain wondered if it had been the milk that had made his wife sick. He hadn’t seen her drink it but only God knew what she would’ve done while he was away. Maybe she’d made herself a chai, which was her current favourite.  
In their bedroom, the count thought about grabbing some of her tummy medicine from her nightstand, but as he opened the first drawer the packet was already empty. Changing into comfy clothes, the count let his thoughts run loosely around his head as he cleaned the bathroom. Maybe the whole preparation was just too much for his wife and she simply didn’t want to admit it.  
Or was she working too much? Joan was giving more lessons for a month now.  
If all this Christmas feast planning had been too much for her in the beginning, she would have told him. But she told him more than twice, that it would be nice to finally decorate the home for Christmas, as they never spent the fest at home. Mostly they would’ve booked a small house in Hawaii but since last year, they haven’t wanted to be near a volcano.

When he’d finished the bathroom, Germain wanted to grab some of Joan’s tummy medicine she kept in her nightstand, but the packet was already empty. When he made his way downstairs, He found the groceries unpacked and his wife asleep in her chair. For a short moment, he watched her sleeping before he quickly unpacked and set up the cattle. Grabbing a mug from the shelf, he placed the bag of camomile tea in it.

Francis kneed in front of the wing chair of his wife and grabbed her hand. She looked pale, and he started to worry. Joan barely got sick, but when she does, it would slow her down at least a week. And all above, his wife would play it down, telling him she wasn’t sick until it would be too late.  
"Joan", he said gently, pressing a small kiss on her cheek as he always woke her up, if he got a chance of it, "you should drink something." She yawned and looked at him tired. Francis could see how confused she was at first, for he had let her sleep for an hour. Sitting up properly, Joan took a few sips from the mug her husband handed her. The tea had the perfect temperature for drinking it, and Joan knew instantly, that her husband had used his fire magic. It was one of the small things she would let him do with his magic around the house.  
"Thank you", she mumbled as she placed her head back against the soft fabric. She didn’t let her glance off of Germain but remained silent.  
"How are you feeling, my dear?" Germain requested softly.  
"A little better. I am sorry I didn’t unpack the food." Joan apologized but Francis just shook his head.  
"Don’t worry, I took care of it."  
But Joan wasn’t finished with apologizing yet. "I am sorry for falling asleep. It hadn’t been my intention. For how long did I even sleep?"  
"You don’t have to feel sorry about that, Joan. It is okay to feel tired from time to time. You were completely out. I’ve let you sleep for an hour." Germain replied shrugging. She smiled at him shyly, before she drank a little more of the tea.  
"You know what I would love to do right now?" She asked him after a while.  
"Tell me."  
"I would love to cuddle with my husband. Relaxing."  
Germain smiled. " I would love to do that too.”  
The rest of the day both of them would do nothing but enjoy the others’ company.


	2. Chapter 2

Francis had a meeting the next day. After yesterday he was still a little worried about his wife’s conditions, but she wouldn’t tell him much.  
The whole e “You can call me any time,” he told her as he was about to leave.  
“I will be fine, don’t worry!” she assured him and kissed him goodbye. Standing his sceptical glance, she’d given him her best smile to assure him that she was fine.  
When she saw his silhouette getting smaller at the end of the street, Joan felt relieved. This morning she had felt sick again, and she wasn’t sure if he _had_ noticed it. As soon as she was back in the house, she grabbed the phone from the charger and called her doctor. She could only hope that she could come directly and would be out in time before Francis came back.

Luck was on her side and quarter-hour later she found herself in the waiting area of her doctor. Nervously she played with her hands, unable to focus on the radio which was playing. Her thoughts raced. It was out of doubt that she was pregnant. She needed it to be confirmed – and she needed something for nausea. _“How shall I tell Francis that? What will he do? What if he leaves me? There is no space for a child in our...”_ Almost immediately she regretted the thought. Of, course there was a place for a child in her life, but could she raise a child alone if Francis decided against them? Maybe she could, but was that what she wanted? No, that wasn’t something she wanted for herself. _“What if he asks about…”_ She couldn’t bring the thought to an end. _“I could ask Scatty for help. I could move away from Paris if Francis isn’t up to it.”_ Joan thought.

“Mrs Darc?” Joan looked up a little confused as a young nurse approached her, “you’re next.”  
Joan just nodded and followed the nurse to the treatment room, where the doctor was already waiting. After small talk, Joan explaining why she had made the appointment, the doctor suggested to perform an ultrasound and soon. Joan was jumpier than she had been when she had to meet King Charles VII for the first time – when she had to identify him in front of the whole court.

Lying on the bed with her shirt rolled up and a cold gel on her belly, Joan wished, she had someone with her as the doctor started spreading gel on her stomach. This made her more than uncomfortable, and even if she knew that nothing bad could happen to her, she started to bit the inside of her cheek a little bit too hard. Joan fixed her eyes on her doctor, who clicked on the machine and placed the probe on the gel she had just spread.  
It felt beyond weird as the probe was moved over her belly. The last time a doctor had performed this on her, they found out that her appendix had to be removed. Back then, Francis had been by her side the whole time, holding her hand and telling her that everything would be fine.

Suddenly the room was filled with a rhythmical beat, and it pulled her out of her thoughts again. The immortal turned her head and her heart sank. On the monitor, she saw a black and white image - and she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. She could make out a tiny head, and when the doctor moved the probe, she thought she could make out arms and legs. Joan didn’t exactly know if that was what she was seeing and she didn’t know how to describe what she saw or what she felt at that moment.  
“Congratulations, you’re pregnant! Everything looks fine. Your baby seems to be perfectly healthy and is developing at a normal pace.” The doctor glanced at Joan, a little smirking. “I assume you’d like me to print out the first pictures of your little one?”

It had started to snow when Joan left the doctor’s office. Even though Paris was a big and dirty city, the snow laid down on some of the benches the immortal passed by. But deep being deep in her thoughts, the woman didn’t pay much attention to it. Only for a brief second, the idea of white Christmas flooded her head. Mostly, the woman was thinking about the maternal health passport she just received. It was a weird feeling, to have it confirmed.  
Now she just needed to pick up the prescription from the pharmacy and… cursing woke her from her thoughts and she looked up. She’d run into somebody.  
“I am so sorry!”, Joan heard herself saying, as she bends down to pick up the papers which were spread on the sidewalk.  
“Don’t worry, they are old anyways”, a male voice said and when she raised her eyes to look at the person she’d just run into, she wondered if she knew the young man in front her.  
“Uhm”, Joan muttered as she handed the papers back, “Again. I am sorry. I should have seen you standing there. I hope they are not to dama—” She got interrupted again as another person stepped out of the coffee shop Joan had run into the man.  
“Billy, I thought you would just park the car and come in. Oh – you met someone?”

 _“This can’t be true”_ , Joan thought, _“I am blessed with luck today!”_  
Next to the men called Billy, stood no other than Niccolo Machiavelli himself. And guessing the look of the Italians face, he was surprised to see her.  
“I wanted but I run into….” Billy started and pointed to the woman, “this young lady.”  
Niccolo smiled. “It’s been a while since we saw each other”, he then said to Joan.  
“Yeah”, Joan simply replied.  
“Wait – you two know each other?” The men called Billy asked and confusion spread over his thin face. “When? Where? How?” Billy looked back and forth between his friend and the woman.  
“It’s a long story”, Niccolo told Billy, “I hope… we meet on good terms?” He saw Joan nodding and continued. “May I introduce you to my trainee, William Bonney?”  
“It’s just Billy.” The young man smiled and hold out a hand and Joan returned the smile and the handshake.  
“Joan.”  
It was an awkward situation for Joan. There was no problem in running into people, but running into Machiavelli was something she had managed to avoid for the past 300 years. And meeting a new immortal was always a struggle for the French woman, for most of the times they would say something about her husband’s mistakes – which weren’t little. The immortals would remind her constantly, that she’d made a bad choice by marrying him.  
“A pleasure to meet you, Joan!” Billy kept smiling and looked at Machiavelli. The young man didn’t even think about any questions as he brushed his sandy blond out of his face. He could sense that this situation was getting uncomfortable for the woman and made attempts to move on but Niccolo wasn’t finished with the conversation at all.  
“I didn’t know you were living in Paris.”  
“Well, I never really left”, Joan explained, “Uhm, I am sorry but I need to go on with my day. If you like, you two can come over on Christmas Eve for dinner”, she suggested, suddenly in a rush to get out of this conversation, “I will call or write your office for the setting!” And with that, she rushed away from the two now confused immortals.

As if that wasn’t enough luck for a day, Joan of Arc was up for another surprise when she walked down the street to her home. Two persons were standing in front of the gate, obviously waiting for one of the owners of the home. The immortal slowed down her steps, her pulse started to race. There weren’t many people who knew about the house. Joan wasn’t even sure why her heart wasn’t beating fast.  
One of the persons turned around to face the direction and waved her. Taking a second glance at the persons, Joan was relieved to discover that the persons waiting were no others than William Shakespeare and Palamedes!  
“What are you two doing here?” Was the first thing that left Joan’s lips when she walked up to them.  
“Is that how you greet friends?”, Palamedes smirked, “We wanted to surprise you two!” he added when Joan hugged him welcome after she welcomed William.  
“I am sorry! I am glad you made it! Why don’t you come in? You two must be freezing!” Joan opened the old looking gate and stepped aside to let Palamedes and William in.

“Do you want anything to drink? Francis will be here in about an hour. He’s picking up the others”, Joan said as they walked into the kitchen.  
“A tea would be great”, William said, as he admired the newly build room. “You got your sunroom!” Without waiting for any answer of his friend, William set off to explore the new addition. He’d knew Joan always wanted to add one to this house and it made him happy she finally got one.  
“Palamedes? Tea too or water?” Joan wanted to know as she filled the cattle.  
“A tea will just do it”, the knight said smiling as he sat down at the counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Germain leaned against the wall of the exit of the airport. He wasn’t the best of a waiter and so he was pretty bored. His mind drifted off to his thoughts, which were a mixture of work and private stuff. A quarter-hour ago, his manager told him, he had been offered a place in the famous Christmas show of the main TV program of France as one of the original performers couldn’t make it in time due to flight troubles.  
Francis was amazed by the offer of course but had explained to his manager, that he had to talk to his wife about it first. Germain was pretty sure that Joan wouldn’t be really happy about this, for it would be on the day before their Christmas dinner. But still, it would push _his_ career forward. And this was something she would have a profit of too! But on the other hand, he was still concerned about her.

He had never seen her being in this mood she’d been in yesterday, and something told him, that she was hiding something from him. She’d been in a cuddly mood for most of the day and didn’t want to leave his side. She’d fallen asleep serval times, something he hasn’t mind at all.

Suddenly, a thought pushed itself into the spotlight: What if _he_ was the actual reason she wasn’t feeling well? There hadn’t been much marriage content going on lately, he had to admit.  
It had two reasons, one of them might be that he had again been quite busy working on her Christmas gift – an album with some new interpretations of her favourite songs of all time, and another one with music from her original lifetime. For this, he’d meet up with historians to see what type of music there had been. He and the historians came up with some old sung prayers and ballades, and hope she would like it. It wasn’t an easy task, but he was in a good way.  
The other one had been, that Joan simply hadn’t been in the mood for it.  
He accepted it, but the thought of him being the cause wouldn’t leave his mind.

Looking up to get distracted from the thought, he noticed a small trio coming out of the airport, packet heavily with bags. They were finally here!  
“Here!” Germain yelled while raising his hand for a wave and the small group turned to face him as he walked up to them. “Let me help you with these.” He added as he snatched the bags from the 2 females.  
“I can carry my bags!” One of the females snapped, showing off her vampire's teeth.  
“Scathach, could you please – please calm down just for now?” the male asked sounding tired, “He is just being friendly!”  
Confused Germain looked to the male for answers.  
“She had to sit next to a nonstop crying toddler. Her nerves are worn out. Thank you for coming to pick us up.”  
“I see,” Germain replied with an understanding tone, “Marriage looks good on you, Niten”, he then joked.  
“Well, I am happy to have her”, Niten smiled and placed his arms around the other woman who remained silent and looked suspicious.  
Aoife of the Shadows still wasn’t sure if she could trust him. She still wasn’t about trusting the count. For her, he still needed to be killed for stealing the magic of Fire from her uncle. Aoife wondered how someone could love him – maybe Joan was insane? She’d heard rumours about such a thing, but when she’d met the woman who shared her sister’s blood, she appeared to be smart. What did she saw in Saint-Germain? Maybe, and only maybe there would be an opportunity to ask the immortal about it in the next days.

“What about we go to the car? You must be tired”, the Rockstar started to walk off, followed by the three. Of course, he knew that Scathach and Aoife didn’t need to sleep but Niten looked like if he hadn’t slept in days. After throwing the bags into the trunk of the car, they set off home, while it started to snow even more.

The ride home was more than uncomfortable for Scathach, Aoife and Germain. Aoife constantly complained about his driving skills. Francis was sure she just complained because he picked them up and not someone else. Considering their last meet (in which Aoife had tried to kill him) he hadn’t been very keen to pick them up either.  
_“Can’t you pick them up? Or my driver could pick them up!” he had asked his wife a few days ago, “Aoife doesn’t like me very much. I don’t feel…”_  
_“Francis, we talked about this. You have a meeting on that day and it would be one way. Either way, she won’t kill you. Also, I have enough here to do.”_  
_“You can’t know that, Jeanne! Last time we’ve met, she tried to kill me immediately! I bet she’ll try again!”_  
_“You’re being silly now. Aoife wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on you.”_  
_“What makes you that sure about this?”_  
_“We talked about you when Scatty, Niten and I rescued her. Now drop that topic. You are going to pick them up.”_ She’d given him one of her serious looks, before adding: _“Besides that, I am the only person who is allowed to kill you, and I made that clear to her.”_

Germain wondered why Aoife had even accepted the invitation in the first place. Possible because of Niten or her sister. Shaking his head to get rid of the thought, the Rockstar fixed his eyes on the street.

* * *

  
“How many will stay here?” Palamedes asked Joan, as he helped her decorating the hallway with a garland he brought from home, while William was unpacking their stuff.  
“For now, only you, Scatty, Aoife and Niten and Sophie. I have no idea if Nicholas, Perenelle, Sophie and Marethyu are staying here.” The woman answered as she wrapped the garland around the railing of the stairs while Palamedes made sure it didn’t tangle itself.  
“Full house then”, the knight joked and held up the garland a little more. “I hope you don’t mind that we brought some of the stuff. Francis mentioned something in an E-Mail.” He added then, as an uncomfortable silence started to grow.  
“No – no it’s fine! Thank you for bringing it. I would’ve just bought one or made one myself later. You’re taking some work off my shoulders.” Joan replied. Palamedes looked at her, as she fastened the end.  
“Isn’t Francis helping you?”  
“He is, don’t worry. But he has… two left hands when it comes to decorating after a theme. Besides that, he has lots of events to attend.”

They both turned around when the front door was opened and Francis stepped inside, followed by Scatty, Niten and Aoife.  
“I am back!” Francis almost yelled but realised in time that his wife and friend were in the room. “What are you doing here?!” The Rockstar let out delighted, as he walked over to the knight after putting his jacket away.  
Joan scratched the back of her head as she took each other's jackets. “I bet we’ve lost him for now. How has your flight been?” She said, sounding a little awkward.  
“Torture. Pure torture.” Scathach answered and drew Joan in a tight welcome hug, while she ignored her sister’s glance. “I don’t know how you or any other human beings can survive such a flight.” Scathach started to babble.  
“Toddler seat?” Joan asked and her friend just nodded.  
“Terrible idea. Never take kids on a flight.”  
The French woman bowed her head slightly in understanding. “Make yourself at home” she then told Niten and Aoife, and a shy smile appeared on her lips, “Your room is on the first floor, the first one on the left side.”  
“Thanks for inviting us”, Niten returned that smile and placed an arm around the suspicious-looking Aoife. Again, an awkward silence started to rise in the room, going out from Aoife and Joan. Both women didn’t know how to act around each other. Aoife stepped on the spot, unsure how to move beside her husband, while Joan bit the inside of her cheeks again.  
“What about we get those suitcases upstairs and we refresh ourself?” Niten then suggested and grabbed two of the suitcases they brought with them.  
“Scatty, you have the same room as last time. The last one on the right side.” The French woman explained as they walked upstairs. “Your room is the first one on the left side”, she then told Niten, who thanked her. He knocked his wife in the rips and she mumbled thanks as well.


	4. Chapter 4

After showing them to their rooms, Joan went up to her room to get herself ready for work. If she was honest, she couldn’t wait to leave the house again.  
When Francis had arrived with Aoife, Niten and Scatty, she had felt as the house was too full of people – and that was a thing she wasn’t a fan of. But she’d agreed to it and had to live with it for now. More people meant that they could discover _her_ secret. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, the immoral shook her head. No one would notice anything. She wasn’t showing and if she did, she could simply blame the Christmas treats she had laying around and was snacking on. Besides that, she gave a shit about what others thought about her body.

“Shall I give you a ride, Joan?” Germain asked as Joan put on her coat.  
“Nah, it’s fine. Just behave yourself while I am gone okay?”  
“I am _always_ behaving myself!”  
“I take your word”, Joan said joking and gave him a goodbye kiss, “I’ll be home by around half-past six.” With that, she left the house.

~~  
“When do you get a tree?” Scathach asked Germain as she walked into the living room.  
Germain looked up. “I thought about getting one tomorrow”, he answered then. He hasn’t had thought about getting one any soon. He wasn’t even sure if he was going to buy one or if he would end up cutting one himself.  
Scathach raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t sound promising to me.”  
“You have a better idea?”  
“You could go and get one now and surprise Joan,” Scatty suggested, “I bet she will love it.”  
“And leave you alone here? No way.”  
“I am not alone here. Palamedes and Will are here. And Niten and my sister.”  
“That’s why I won’t leave. How about you go and buy us a tree?”  
The atmosphere in the room started to get heated and to Francis’ and Scathach’s surprise, Aoife stepped in and suggested that she and Scatty could train downstairs for a while. Scatty looked blankly at her sister for a moment and wanted to say something against it, but looking at her sister she decided against the back talk and walked off with her.

Francis sighed with a little relief, as he walked into the kitchen to pull out a pan for making some popcorn. Scatty wasn’t wrong at all. He had to look for a tree, but then he would love to do it with Joan – not alone. Looking out the kitchen window, the thought of decorating the now white-coated pine tree in the garden welcomed itself in his head. He saw neighbours decorating the plants outside, but was he a person for this? Possible not, he decided as he started to heat the pan. For some reason he wanted to do something useful, but what? For days now, he wouldn’t be able to work on Joan’s present, for this would make him a bad host in his eyes. Absently, he shook the pan to move the corns around. There had to be something he could do besides buying the decoration. He started to feel like a bad husband. Every other man knew what their chores were at home but he? He felt like there were no chores for him at all. Joan was gifted with handicraft and therefore didn’t need help with repairing things. She would build things herself, while he mostly preferred to buy finished things.  
“ _You have other qualities she doesn’t have_ ”, he started to tell himself, “ _You can nearly play any instrument, while she can play them but not perfectly. You can create jewellery from normal stones.”_ He felt mean to think about his wife like this, Francis started to realise. This marriage wasn’t about what the other could do or not do but about the love they had for each other. They have had their ups and downs, but in the end, Francis was sure to have Joan’s back. And she had his.

Taking the pan from the stove, Francis removed the lit to discover that some of the popcorn had burned. Damn. He had craved that Popcorn! Sitting down at the dinner table he started to sort the popcorn, when he saw a whole box of fairy lights standing on the table. Walking over to the lights, he looked at them for a moment, and soon had an idea what to do with them.

Being a teacher could be pleasure and torture at the same time. The immortal had known that when she started giving art lessons in this middle school. Most of the pupils were nice persons, easy to handle but some…. Some were just knowledge resistant.  
Joan let herself fall into the next chair in the teacher's lounge. The first lesson had already worked on her nerves: She’d planned the complete lesson at home. She’d created worksheets with information about the technique, the colour theme and the painting itself. But as soon as she had walked into the classroom, it had become worthless.  
The class, besides a few pupils, had decided to give a shit about the lessons and acted like they were the boss. Howling, they would throw paper balls and paper planes, running around, eating would not let the woman say one whole sentence. Joan, being resistant as she always had been, tried to ignore them, but lost the battle halfway through the lesson, after all of her papers she’d printed were gone.

“What’s troubling you?”  
Joan looked up and saw her colleague Adele sitting down in the chair next to her. By far, Adele was her favourite colleague of all. Not that Joan didn’t like the other colleagues, but the young woman was in her late twenties (as Joan pretended to be as well), and was an easy person who shared some of Joan interests such as cooking and drawing.  
“The lesson was pure torture,” Joan said, “Louis and his friends were not having it. In a few minutes, the whole class wasn’t doing anything but chatter and doing what they wanted. The room is a mess.”  
Adele nodded. “Louis is a rebel, we both know. I am surprised that he even showed up for your lesson. Normally he skips everything besides sport.” She bit into her sandwich, “He’s known to be a troublemaker.”  
Joan managed a small nod. She wasn’t really fond of talking bad about her pupils. As always she would try to see the good in every person. Even if their behaviour was beyond acceptable. “Do you know if Madame Delacour is in her office? I need to talk to her.”  
“I think so. But if I were you, wouldn’t bother her with Louis, she already knows about him. He is a hopeless case, she says.”  
“No student is a helpless case. They mostly just need the right thing to focus on.” Joan replied smiling, “I wasn’t a good student at all.”

The memory from the lessons with Nicholas was still vivid in her memory. Back in the day, Joan had quite a temper (which she still had, but learned to control) and if something wasn’t going as she expected, something would make its way across the room, no matter how. It had taken Nicholas more than a year to teach her reading and another year for writing.  
Adele laughed. “Anyways, I think she is in her office right…“ She was interrupted by the bell ringing. “Maybe you try it after your last lesson? Or write her an E-Mail”, she recommended.  
“I like to tell her in person about this… it’s a quite personal topic.”  
“You’re not thinking about leaving, are you Joan? I know Louis is a tough piece and some of the staff isn’t great either but otherwise, this school is pretty cool!”  
“No, no I am not thinking about quitting. It’s about something else. Something that will affect my work in the coming months”, Joan answered quickly. She knew that Adele wanted to know what was going on now, and since she didn’t know about her immortality and Francis, Joan decided to tell her. “Can you keep a secret?”  
“Yes of course!”

Joan turned to Adele and whispered her secret. Telling another person made her feel a little easier even for her.  
“No way! Really?! How long do you know it?” the young French teacher hugged Joan and smiled.  
“Since yesterday. I was at my doctor's today. That’s why I want to talk to Madame Delacour. Only that she knows it.” Joan laughed, “Please keep it to you. I am not looking for any talking about my person.”  
Dramatically, Adele raised her hand and placed it on her heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”  
It made the immortal only laugh more and she wished her friend good luck with her class before she entered her own.

**Author's Note:**

> See ya in the next chapter! Let me know what you think!


End file.
